With an unsteady hand, she reached for the door. But she hesitated, as she looked up at the large door to her parents study room, the oak door as old as her family with its deep ominous color and carvings of such unspoken of things in the dark wood. She was always forbidden from touching it, had never wanted to touch such a thing. Her parents room always seemed to grow increasingly evil and unholy, her parents never been the type of church go-ers.
But the girl having long ago accepted a bible from her old and dying grandfather, his last words to her before he’d passed the book to her were “Learn this well, it will protect you from the ones who wish you harm. Always stick close to God for protection and comfort now my sweetling.”
She grabbed the over powering looking knob of the door, and silently pushed open the door, her bright blue eyes peeking into the dimmed room. She could make out the robbed forms of her parents and a few others, small candles in the inside of their tight group. As she was reaching up to grab the knob and close the door quietly, a robed man grabbed the girl, his large tanned hand encircling her pale upper arm dragging her into the room with him and slamming the door. The sound vibrated through the group making them all stop their chanting and looked over at the man and child.
“Look what I found peeking in on our time together.” His voice deep and demanding, the girl may have been young but she could still hear a smile in his voice from under his dark hood.
“Mary Annie Thomas what are you doing in here?” A woman’s voice full of scorn said loudly as she cut through the group of tall figures.
“I-I’m sorry M-mother, I just wanted to say goodnight before bed.” Mary said, her small voice shaking as she peered up at her mother, her blue eyes wide and dominating her face as she twisted her small arm away from the man.
The man let go of her arm with a short, sharp laugh, “I think she wanted to know what goes on, and maybe we should show her Lisa.” He said, using her mother’s name.
“No, Mary go to bed, NOW!” She yelled at her, grabbing her arms roughly and pushing her out of the room, her grip biting into the girl’s pale dialect flesh.
“Y-yes ma’am.” Without need for encouragement she sprinted from the room as the man opened the door and slamming it closed. Mary ran as fast as her legs could carry her down the hall and up the stairs on the other side of the large house, as she jumped into bed she clutched her Grandfather’s bible. Wet chilled tears running down her pale face as she hid under her large black blankets. Her grandpa use to say that if you wrote a letter to someone who passed and put it in a bible, Jesus and God would give it to that person. Yanking out a piece of plain paper and pen out of her side table and started to scribble in childish letters,
I miss you something terrible, these past months you’ve been gone up there with ol’ God have been terrible. My parents have done nothing but be abusive, they hit me like I did somethin’ wrong. They are always having them weird people over, dressed in those horrible black robes. Grandpa I miss you so much it hurts my heart. Please have God help me grandpa….”
The girl let out a soft sob as she looked up at her dark ceiling, praying to God to help her, and save her from those people who call themselves her parents, as she let out all her worries and hopes into the letter to her one friend and God, her sobbing become quiet whimpers. Slipping the letter into her little bible, the girl fell asleep, clutching that bible to her chest tightly as if it would turn to dust if she didn't.
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